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<title>A Mouse Tail: Warm Hearts and Nose Kisses by mandelion82 (JHsgf82)</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25682314">A Mouse Tail: Warm Hearts and Nose Kisses</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/JHsgf82/pseuds/mandelion82'>mandelion82 (JHsgf82)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AU, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Loneliness, Loss, Magic, Panem with no Hunger Games, Romance, fairy tale, mentions of physical abuse, mouse!Peeta</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 05:59:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,720</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25682314</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/JHsgf82/pseuds/mandelion82</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Katniss feels she is all alone, having lost the two most important people in her life.  But then one day, she finds a small golden mouse who warms her heart and eases her pain.  Is there more to him than meets the eye?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>44</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Mouse</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosegardeninwinter/gifts">rosegardeninwinter</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for the Prompt:  Spots to Kiss:  A Kiss on the Nose<br/>Rated T just to be safe.</p><p>Cover Edit by:  katnissandpeeta125</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>My name is Katniss Everdeen. I’m 16 years old. My home is District 12. I lost my father in a mining accident. Now I’ve lost my beloved younger sister, Prim, to a terrible disease. My mother is practically unresponsive. I’m all alone.</p><p>This is the way of things, and I’ve come to accept it. We get by, my mother and I. When I’m old enough to work, I’ll get a job. I’ve already been asking around, and I have some prospects. But for now, I hunt and bring home stale bread (and occasionally cookies) from the bakery. The baker is kind to me. I think because he knows what it’s like to be alone.</p><p>Mom keeps the house up as best she can. She’s finally able to force herself out of bed and do something. Each morning and throughout the afternoon, she sweeps the floors and washes the windows and wipes the surfaces down, methodically, robotically. But that’s it. She barely speaks to me and certainly never hugs me. I don’t bother trying to hug her, either.</p><p>As of late, we’ve had a bit of a rodent problem. It’s one of those rare times I see use for my sister’s mangy old cat, Buttercup, but she ran away. So, my mother finally breaks down and puts out traps. I admit I’m torn about this. I know Prim would have hated the idea. She loved all the creatures on this earth. I secretly hope we don’t catch anything. After a while, I start feeling supremely guilty, despite being a huntress. So, I swap out the lethal traps for more merciful ones, which I invent myself. That way, if we catch something, I can just release it.</p><p>One day, I’m cleaning my latest kill when I hear it, the snapping sound indicating one of the traps has done its work. “Oh!” I gasp and rush to see.</p><p>I crouch down low and survey the traps.</p><p>There’s a tiny mouse inside one of them. It has matted golden fur; large, round ears; a pert pink nose, and dark, beady eyes. It looks terrified. I notice by its position in the trap that it was clever enough to realize it was in danger and try to escape, but it wasn’t quick enough because its tail has been caught by the mechanism. It’s a little smashed at the tip. I hope it’s not broken, but there’s nothing I can really do if it is. Instinctively, I release the mechanism and free it.</p><p>The mouse scurries out but doesn’t totally flee. Instead, it stops a few feet away and looks up at me, sniffing the air.</p><p>“Are you alright?” I ask like an idiot as if the thing can understand me. Its whiskers twitch.</p><p>“I’m sorry about your tail. I...I won’t hurt you,” I say. Its little pink nose wiggles, and it’s insane, but somehow, I suspect it understands me.</p><p>“I’m Katniss,” I say, laying my hand out flat. The mouse slowly makes its way forward, and then, to my great surprise, it crawls right up into my palm.</p><p>“Wow. You’re, uh, either very trusting or very stupid, little mouse,” I say. The mouse releases a high-pitched squeak, and I swear it’s yelling at me for calling it stupid. But still, it doesn’t run away. I rise to my feet, the mouse poised on my palm, and I observe it. “Your tail,” I begin. It’s cut, and in spite of all the animals I’ve killed, I feel bad.</p><p>Well, it’s not like we’re hurting for food right now, and although it may be silly, I feel obligated to care for the creature I’ve injured. Maybe there’s more of Prim in me than I thought. So, I carefully place my other hand over the mouse, allowing just enough space for it to poke its nose out to breathe, and I head off.</p><p>I put it in a box with high walls. I don’t bother sealing it up and putting holes in it because, frankly, if the creature wanted to escape, it could have long ago. It could’ve even bitten me while I held it. I’m glad it didn’t. Come to think of it, that wasn’t very smart of me at all‒mice carry loads of diseases. I can’t help but wonder why it seems so tame. Perhaps other people have fed it. But around here? Not likely.</p><p>I spread ointment on the small gash on its tail, all the while wondering why I’m doing this. I suppose it’s a way of honoring my dearest Prim. She always loved all God’s creatures, no matter how small. And so, I doctor the tail as best I can, even put a little bandaid on it, so it doesn’t gnaw at it. Hopefully, it’ll heal soon with no permanent damage to the tail.</p><p>***</p><p>And so, the mouse becomes my pet. I rip up some old cloth to make bedding for it inside the box, but it doesn’t often sleep there. Oddly, he (at least, I think it’s a male) wants to sleep in my bed. I worry I’ll roll over on him, though, particularly when I have nightmares. Thankfully, it hasn’t happened yet. For nourishment, I feed the little guy small chunks of bread and bits of cheese made from milk from Prim’s goat, when she produces enough, anyway, and I talk to him, a lot.</p><p>***</p><p>Today, we’re having a picnic of sorts. I’m lying on my bed, humming a tune; he’s on a piece of cloth next to me, and we’re picking away at some scraps of meat, bread, and the remainder of the goat cheese I made last week. After a week of living high off the hog, so to speak, the little mouse looks much healthier. He’s no longer emaciated and is actually almost plump now, and his fur is much shinier and silkier. Admittedly, I gave him a bath a couple of days ago, something I never in a million years thought I’d do, not with any animal, let alone, a mouse. And maybe I’m imagining, but I swear, the mouse got shy about it and took to finishing the task himself when I got to his underside.</p><p>“Maybe I should name you,” I say out of the blue. Why not? I think. After all, I feel some kind of bizarre connection with the little rodent. It’s so strange, but it’s as if he can understand me, and it’s almost like I can hear his thoughts, too. Some of the time anyway; it’s not always consistent.</p><p>My mouse buddy gives a pronounced squeak as if he approves, and then he does the weirdest thing...he picks up a chunk of bread crust with those cute, grubby little pink mitts of his and holds it up to me as if he’s trying to tell me something.</p><p>“Bread? You want to give me bread? Or…” I think a moment. “Your name...it should be something to do with bread?”</p><p>
  <em>Squeak!</em>
</p><p>I shrug.</p><p>“Any specific type of bread?” I tease.</p><p>
  <em>Squeak! Squeak!</em>
</p><p>This last series of squeaks seems more urgent, almost frustrated.</p><p>“Okay, okay, I’ll be serious.” I chuckle. “How about...Rye?”</p><p>My little friend swipes his tail from side to side, and I gather that means ‘no.’</p><p>It’s impossible, but I get the feeling he’s trying to tell me something, so I decide to try.</p><p>“Pumpernickel,” I guess again.</p><p>Another tail swipe.</p><p>This is so stupid. I must be a crazy person, talking to a mouse, trying to hold a psychic conversation with a MOUSE, for crying out loud!</p><p>“Whole wheat? Sourdough?”</p><p>I’m running out of bread names I can think of, and my responses are getting more and more ridiculous. My rodent friend is clearly annoyed with me. The little guy swishes his tail rapidly, smacking me a couple of times with it, and I can practically see him shake his head along with it each time. So weird.</p><p>Finally, he stops and stares at me with those coal-black, beady (yet surprisingly, adorable) eyes, willing me to ‘Think, think!’</p><p>I hem and haw, and the mouse whips his head from side to side as if looking for something to help me out.</p><p>“I don’t know...Pita,” I blurt out as a last resort.</p><p>As soon as I say it, his ears twitch, and his head snaps toward me. He starts squeaking loudly; I’d say excitedly if I didn’t know better.</p><p>I give. “Okay, so you like Pita?”</p><p>He thumps his tail up and down, which I assume means ‘yes.’</p><p>“Pita it is.”</p><p>What a strange animal companion I have...</p><hr/><p>Another week passes, and I’ve grown very fond of my little Pita. I no longer fear contracting Leptospirosis or Hantavirus or the plague or something from him nor crushing him in my sleep. He always crawls up on my chest to sleep now, and I know he’s smart enough to move if he feels me roll or if I begin thrashing around like I do when I have nightmares. When that happens, he does scurry away (for his own safety), but he always comes right back and buries himself into my neck, nuzzling me and cuddling me back to sleep.</p><p>Pita does like to sleep in the spot where my neck meets my shoulder, and sometimes he even bonks and rubs his little face against my chin or ear as a cat would. But more often than not, he curls up in a tiny ball and falls asleep right over the spot where my heart is. He fits there perfectly, and he is surprisingly warm. That area, though small, is always so much warmer than the rest of my body.</p><p>***</p><p>One evening, Pita is in his usual spot on my chest, and I’m stroking his fur with two fingers. I decide then to tell him all about my father and Prim...</p><p>Once more, I sense that he understands, and even empathizes with me. He’s watching me now with those dark, round eyes, which seem a little wider and moister than usual. I know mice don’t cry, but people do. And a few of my tears slip out. They run down my cheeks, and immediately, Pita begins to rub his body against my cheek, wiping them up with his fur.</p><p>I should be disgusted by this, but I’m not. Rather, I find the action sweet and loving and shockingly, human. His compassion goes way beyond any connection we should have, even if he thinks I’m another animal. Doesn’t it?</p><p>“Why can I understand you? Why can you understand me?” I ask. He simply stares at me, and I scratch him behind the ears.</p><p>“You seem to have human intelligence.” I scoff. “Don’t tell me you’re a prince in the form of a mouse or something,” I say, thinking of a silly story I read once to Prim.</p><p>Pita stares at me for several seconds and lets out a high-pitched squeak-squeak-squeak as if he’s laughing at me. But then his eyes seem to soften. He moves closer, places his paws on either side of my chin, and bonks it with his nose.</p><p>I smile.</p><p>Maybe Pita needed me to get him out of the trap, but I realize now that I needed him more. He has managed to ease my sorrow and my loneliness in some small but powerful way. And he has become my companion. I know it can’t last forever; mice don’t live that long, but I try not to think of that. Because he is all I really have now. He is mine, and I am his, and anything else is unthinkable.</p><p>The idea of someday losing him devastates me so-and I feel such affection for the little creature before me who has warmed my heart, both literally and figuratively-that I can’t help myself. I dip my head and peck his nose.</p><p>As soon as I kiss the little pink tip, I ‘see’ a bright golden spark, and Pita quickly scurries off my chest.</p><p>What in the world was that? I wonder. Static electricity? No, it couldn’t be. But what?<br/>And then I remember Pita.</p><p>“Pita!” I call. He’s nowhere to be seen. Oh great. Now I’ve done it! “Pita, come back! I didn’t mean to frighten you! Please come back!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Boy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Peeta has transformed back into a boy and intends to tell Katniss his story.  What will Katniss's reaction be?  Will she believe him?</p><p>*Mostly from Peeta's POV, but there's a piece from Katniss's.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>For rosegardeninwinter</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Peeta’s POV</em>
</p><p>When the spell is broken, I rush off Katniss’s chest as quickly as my little legs can carry me. I run down the bedpost, hit the ground, and sprint for the furthest, darkest corner. I scurry across the concrete floor of her bedroom, my little nails click-clacking away. There are two reasons for my haste: One, I know I’m about to transform, and I don’t want to shock her or crush her, and Two, I expect I’ll be nude.</p><p>I’m running as fast as I can, but I’m limited in this form. What I wouldn’t give for a longer, sturdier pair of limbs right now, perhaps a horse’s or a cheetah’s. Even my old ones would be better than this, bum leg and all. But these’ll have to do. I see a room separating apparatus in that back corner. Ah-ha! That might work! For the short term, anyway. But after…?</p><p>I pick up the pace and head toward the apparatus. On the way, I catch sight of an old white sheet that should cover me and think to try and tug it along with my teeth, but I don’t know if I’m strong enough or how much time I have to get out of view. And it wouldn’t do for her to see me stark naked, especially not when we haven’t even kissed for real.</p><p>I’m barely safe behind the room divider when I feel it. The change. It’s happening. I huff in relief and wait, almost afraid to move. I feel my small body begin to tingle and grow warmer, the warmth spreading out from my chest, down through my body, out along my paws and tail, to the tips of my being.</p><p>I feel my body expanding and lengthening; it’s slow, but the pressure is great. It doesn’t hurt, exactly, but it’s a bit uncomfortable. The discomfort doesn’t last long, though, and before I know it, I am me again. After all this time, I am me.</p><p>I stare down at my hands, large and pale and mostly hairless, aside from a bit on the knuckles. No more paws. I have human hands again with ten fingers! I count them just to be sure.</p><p>And yes, I’m in my birthday suit, but I can’t seem to care about that right now. There are much more important things to be thinking about.</p><p>Like, what this all means…</p><p>I take a moment to revel in my good fortune, and it all comes rushing back. Katniss Everdeen kissed me. Me! Okay, so, it was a nose kiss, and I was a mouse at the time, but still, she kissed me! I’m not sure whether I’m happier about that or about returning to my human form. Both are pretty amazing.</p><p>And I can’t help smiling, despite the state I’m in. <em>You failed</em>, I think, smugly. And Katniss, she did it. I knew she would.</p><p>At least, I hoped she would. It was my fondest, wildest dream for Katniss to break the curse. She was the only one who could. And I needed her. But more than that, I want to be with her. And I wonder, if she could care so much for mouse Peeta, could she care as much for his human counterpart?</p><p>My elation over my transformation and Katniss’s kiss begins to wear off a little, given my predicament. I’m crouched naked behind the room separator, hugging my knees to my chest, just trying to keep out of sight, which isn’t an easy feat, considering my size.</p><p>“Pita! Pita!” I hear her call for me. Well, mouse me. I don’t want to continue to worry her, but what am I to do?</p><p>She calls out to me again, and her name instinctively slips from my lips. I cover my mouth immediately.</p><p><em>Stupid</em>.</p><p>“Who said that? Who’s here?”</p><p>I might as well answer. It’s too late to pretend I’m not here; my loose lips have already given me away.</p><p>“It’s...uh…” My voice squeaks a little through my fingertips. Aftereffects of my transformation, I suppose. Or, perhaps nerves. I clear my throat and say, in a more human, masculine tone, “It’s me, Peeta.”</p><p><em>Idiot!</em> Now she’ll be really freaked out because the man-er-mouse she’s familiar with can’t talk. Not that she’ll believe me…</p><p>The room’s gone silent, but Katniss moves so quietly that she could very well be upon me in seconds. I have to peer out to locate her.</p><p>When I see her, her lovely brow is furrowed up in confusion and...horror. “What?” I hear the fear in her voice, but she doesn’t waver, my brave Katniss. “Don’t play games with me,” she says. “Who are you really? Show yourself,” she demands.</p><p>“Uh, I can’t...exactly...do that, Katniss...”</p><p>“Why not? And how do you know my name? Show yourself!”</p><p>When I peek around the divider again, I see she’s going for her weapon. I quickly duck back behind it.</p><p><em>Oh great</em>. My dream girl is going to shoot me between the eyes before I can even tell her how I feel about her. Not to mention, she’s going to see me naked if I don’t find something to cover myself. If only I could reach that sheet I saw…</p><p>
  <em>Think, Peeta, think!</em>
</p><p>“Uh, okay. Okay. I can show you my face, but I have...a bit of a situation.”</p><p>“Situation?” I hear her moving closer.</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“What situation? Why are you here in my house?”</p><p>“Well…” I puff my cheeks out in a short, sharp exhale.</p><p>“I should warn you, I’m armed, so you better not try anything, and you better come out, now!”</p><p>I heave a sigh and slowly rise up, peeking my head above the divider. She has her weapon in position, and for a few seconds, I feel that same fear I felt when I was caught in her trap. But I trust Katniss; I trust in her kindness. Just as she released me from the cage, I know she won’t put an arrow through me.</p><p>I raise my hands slowly, palms out, and sheepishly grin at her. “Hi, Katniss.” <em>Smooth, dummy</em>. “I know this looks bad, but–”</p><p>“Why do you keep referring to me by name?” she snips.</p><p>“Because I know you, Katniss. And…,” I release my breath, “you know me.”</p><p>I don’t expect her to remember about the bread, but a part of me dares to dream I’ve had some kind of effect on her, maybe not the way she’s had on me, but...something, anything.</p><p>“I’m sure you don’t recognize me,” I say softly when she doesn’t speak. “We met a long time ago...”</p><p>She lowers her weapon slightly, seemingly going off in her head.</p><hr/><p>
  <em>Katniss’s POV</em>
</p><p>The boy before me, this intruder claiming to be Pita looks harmless enough, but looks can be deceiving. The very fact that he said his name is Pita means he’s either mocking me or deceiving me; he’s either out of his head or dangerous, and I want neither sort of male in my home.</p><p>My trusty bow in hand, I study him from a safe distance. The man is young, about my age, so not quite a man, still a boy, and like my pet, he is golden. At least, the top of his head. But unlike Pita’s fur, which is the color of desert sand, this boy's hair is like ripe wheat and falls in curls over his eyes. Eyes so very blue. Blue as the sky.</p><p>In a word, he’s beautiful.</p><p>But that doesn’t mean I trust him.</p><p>I can only see the top portion of him; he’s hiding behind my mother’s old room separator. My cheeks warm when I realize his broad shoulders and the top portion of his chest is bare. Is he completely naked behind there? And why? I shake away the thought and focus on what he’d alluded to, that I should know him. He does seem so familiar to me somehow. I’m sure I’ve seen those eyes before.</p><p>And then it hits me, how I know him.</p><p><em>Oh no, not him</em>, I think. <em>He</em> can’t be the crazy guy who’s snuck into my home and is saying he’s Pita.</p><p>I finally speak. “You’re the baker’s boy.”</p><p>“Yes.” He nods.</p><p>“And you...you were...the boy with the bread.”</p><p>“You remembered.” He smiles shyly.</p><p>“How could I forget? You saved me that day.” I drop my bow completely to my side and drift back to seven years ago…</p><p>He was the one who saved me. Gave me burnt (but perfectly edible) bread when I was starving and took a beating for it from his witch of a stepmother. He was the first one to feed me. Then, after the mysterious disappearances, his father, the baker, would give me the day-old bread, sometimes even cookies.</p><p>“You disappeared,” I say. “Everyone thought you were dead.” I thought so, too. And I always regretted never thanking him.</p><p>“I very nearly was, Katniss,” he replies. “In a way, it’s only because of you that I’m here to tell this tale.”</p><p>“What do you mean? What happened to you?”</p><p>“Well, you’re probably not going to believe it...”</p><p>“Try me,” I say.</p><p>He nods. “Okay. But before I do, could you, uh, hand me that sheet?”</p><p>I go for the sheet he's pointing to and hold it out to him, extending my arm and turning my neck as far away as I can so I don’t accidentally catch a glimpse of anything I’m not meant to see. He apologizes as he takes the sheet and wraps it around himself.</p><p>Several seconds later, he steps out from behind the divider, the sheet snugly wrapped around him. I reluctantly offer him a seat on the edge of my bed‒because there’s nowhere else really‒and I take a spot on the other end. He’s at the foot of the bed, and I’m at the head, my weapon close at hand just in case. Although, I highly doubt the boy with the bread is going to hurt me after saving me all those years ago, I can’t be sure. All I know for sure is he is here, saying he has a fantastical story.</p><p>I glance down at my hands, still gripping the bow, and after a moment, I sense him looking over at me. “I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m here in your home...nude,” he says.</p><p>“Actually, yes.” My glance flits away from him. <em>Among other things…</em></p><p>“Well, believe me, Katniss, this is not how I imagined us meeting again. And I...I imagined it a lot.” When I look over, I see that his pale cheeks are rosy. Come to think of it, mine are burning faintly, too.</p><p>I decide to ignore the part about him frequently imagining us meeting and ask what’s very much on my mind. “Why did you call yourself Pita?”</p><p>“Because I am Peeta.” She never knew me by name, so the only Peeta she’s acquainted with is the one in mouse form.</p><p>“You can’t possibly be Pita. You heard me calling for him just now and said that was your name, didn’t you? Why would you do that? Do you think I’m stupid?”</p><hr/><p>
  <em>Peeta’s POV</em>
</p><p>Katniss is growing defensive; she’s inching off the bed away from me, clutching her weapon tightly. I ensure the sheet is secure then hold up my hands, hoping to assuage her.</p><p>“Of course not. But I assure you, I am Peeta.” I search for a way to prove to her that mouse Peeta and I are one in the same. I think back to our little ‘conversation’ when I was trying to get her to guess my name. “Not Rye. Definitely not sourdough,” I chuckle, “but Peeta. And not like the bread. It’s spelled P-E-E-T-A. Katniss,” I say firmly but gently, “it’s me.”</p><p>My eyes bore into hers; her enchanting grays widen, and she takes a few steps back.</p><p>“Don’t be frightened. I won’t hurt you,” I echo the words she said to me when she released me from her trap; although, I’m certain I’m having the opposite effect on her. I take a deep breath and release it slowly. “I-I was turned into a mouse, but I’ve changed back. All thanks to you.”</p><p>I move to stand, and she raises her bow again. “I don’t know how you know about what you just said…,” she begins in a measured tone, “And you may have fed me when we were kids, but I won’t stand for being mocked!”</p><p>“I knew you wouldn’t believe me.” I grin. “Katniss, please, just let me explain,” I say gently. And again, I take a breath. “Remember our guessing game about my name? The bread crumb. Remember when you thought it was odd that Pita could understand you? Well, that’s because he could. I could. Just couldn’t express it through words.”</p><p>I fix her with my gaze. “You were right to think something was amiss, Katniss. But no, I was not a prince trapped in a mouse’s body; I’m just a regular guy who fell into a terrible situation. It was...my stepmother who transformed me.”</p><p>I shut my eyes a moment then look over at Katniss. She’s calmed a bit and is staring intently. I go on. “She always hated me, and she wasn’t a nice person at all. I could never understand how my father had fallen in love with her or why he stayed with her. Turns out, there was a bigger reason behind it than the old adage that ‘love is blind.’ She was using a love charm on him the whole time. You see, my stepmother is-was a witch. Not just in personality, but an actual witch‒the potion-mixing, spell-casting, wicked hag type.”</p><p>Katniss gapes. My story keeps getting more and more unbelievable, I know, but she hasn’t run away, or shot me; she’s still listening.</p><p>“One day, I discovered what she was and learned that she’d been using her powers for evil. Some of the things she did, Katniss…” Disgusted, I shake my head. “I witnessed her casting a few very despicable spells, and I knew I had to stop her. But I wasn’t sure what to do. I was afraid to cross her. She’d already beaten me on several occasions, even caused permanent damage to my left leg.” The only real benefit of being a mouse, I realize then, aside from getting close to Katniss was that I had full use of my limbs again and was able to run. “If she could do that to me by her own hand, what could her magic do? Well, I would soon find out...”</p><p>I slowly exhale, and because my leg is bothering me, I sit. “It wasn’t even the most malicious one, but I think the spell that got to me the most was the bewitching of my father. It was the final straw, I suppose. I couldn’t let her continue to harm the townspeople and deceive my father, so, when she went out one day on some dirty errand, I searched the house, found her potions (and the items she made them with) and her spellbook, and I destroyed them. At least, mostly. She returned early and caught me just as I was tossing her spellbook in the fire. It’s safe to say, she was furious.”</p><p>“Why a mouse?” I pause. “Maybe it was just the spell she remembered offhand, or maybe she meant to turn me into one, specifically. In a way, it makes sense. It was the ultimate way to belittle me, to make me feel smaller, weaker, and even more powerless against her. Whatever her intent, that’s what I became after she muttered a few words I didn’t understand.”</p><p>“She wanted to kill me,” I go on. “She tried to stomp me, and she threw whatever was within reach at me, books, mugs, cutlery...but even though I was disoriented by my new form, those survival instincts kicked in, and I was able to evade her.”</p><p>I meet Katniss’s eyes, and I can see the compassion there. Does she believe me? She’s lowered her bow now, and slowly, she returns to take a seat on the bed.</p><p>“That’s terrible, Peeta,” she says after she’s settled in.</p><p>I nod. “Yeah, it was. It was an awful ordeal.”</p><p>“What did you do?” she asks.</p><p>I sigh. “Well, I hid. I was terrified, shaking uncontrollably, but I didn’t run away. I managed to stay out of sight, which is pretty easy when you’re that size, and I waited around for my father to get home. I didn’t know what else to do, and I wanted to warn him, even though I didn’t know how. My father asked her where I was, and she made up an excuse. She kept making excuses for days, but my father grew suspicious. Without the help of the love charm, he wasn’t under her control, and he questioned her. I witnessed the confrontation between them. He accused her of murdering me‒she very nearly did, and would have if I hadn’t been so quick.”</p><p>Katniss moves slightly closer, and I give her a faint smile.</p><p>“I tried to let my father know I was there and that I was okay, but I couldn’t. He shooed me away like any other pest.”</p><p>In yet another show of her great compassion, Katniss reaches out to cover my hand with her own on the bed. I stare down at the dainty olive-colored hand that doesn’t quite cover my own, and I smile. I want so badly to embrace her, to kiss her, but this isn’t the time for it. If/when that happens, I want it to be perfect. This moment, though, I could easily live in it forever.</p><p>“I’m so sorry, Peeta,” she tells me.</p><p>“Don’t be sorry, Katniss.” I turn my hand over to intertwine our fingers, and I squeeze. “You were so kind to me. Just as you say I saved you, you saved me. You released me from the trap, and you took care of me. So, we’re even.”</p><p>Although, come to think of it, we’re not anywhere close to even. Tossing Katniss a few loaves of bread is nothing compared to what she has done for me. She’s given me my life back.</p><p>Katniss scoffs. “But it was my trap. I was the one who caught you.”</p><p>“How could you know I was human? And besides, it was my own fault. I was so hungry that I went into the snare knowingly. I thought I had it figured out, but I didn’t, not quite. I wasn’t fast enough to beat the mechanism. I thought I could outwit Katniss Everdeen...” I grin and say with tenderness, “How foolish of me.”</p><p>She turns her face away, her cheeks reddening ever so slightly.</p><p>I give her another light squeeze. “And don’t forget, you let me go. You even took care of me after. How many people would do that for a tiny vermin?”</p><p>She smiles faintly and doesn’t let go of my hand. I could probably drop dead right now, no regrets.</p><p>“What was it like to be a mouse?” she asks after a moment.</p><p>I think on it while stroking the back of her hand with my thumb. “It was...like being trapped in a body that wasn’t my own if you can imagine that. My mind was very much mine, but I had to adjust to a new body, and I feel like...my mind was sometimes overtaken by baser, primal instincts, namely, the need to eat and survive.”</p><p>“I can understand that one,” she says. “I’m something of an expert on hunger.”</p><p>I press my lips together, not liking it at all that Katniss has known such suffering.</p><p>“But thanks to the generosity of people like you and your father, we were able to get by,” she adds.</p><p>The corners of my lips turn up, so thankful am I that she received the help she needed and that I could be a part of that.</p><p>“Tell me more,” she says.</p><p>“Well...almost everything is more difficult and a danger when you’re so small. And even though it doesn’t take much to sustain such a body, I wasn’t used to scavenging or eating some of the things I had to eat. And then there were the predators...” I think of the run-in I nearly had with a large cat with a muddy yellow coat, a mashed-in nose, and half an ear missing. “And the other rodents...I tried to befriend them, but they knew something was different about me, so they either ignored or shunned me. I tried to accept my lot in life, but I felt so alone. So helpless. So, I did the only thing I could think of‒went to your place.”</p><p>“Why mine?”</p><p>“Well, Katniss, because of the nature of the spell. I needed you. And only you...”</p><p>“But...I don’t understand.”</p><p>“Well, when I was too quick for my stepmother to squash, she placed a curse on me.”</p><p>Katniss’s brow furrows. “What was the curse?”</p><p>I give her a small smirk. “That I would remain a mouse until I received a kiss from my one true love...” I look at Katniss, gauging her response. She blinks confusedly several times.</p><p>“No, my stepmother was not some romantic,” I go on, “not at all. It was just her way of taunting me. It was her final revenge, I suppose. You see...I’m in love with you, Katniss. Have been, oh, since we were five years old...”</p><p>Realization lights in her eyes; they go wide, and her lips part.</p><p>I turn toward her, taking her other hand. “This isn’t how I wanted to tell you, not at all, but we’re here now…” My mouth twitches at the irony that I’d only confess my love to her now. “That’s why it had to be you, Katniss. And you did it. You broke the spell.”</p><p>Katniss says nothing, but she doesn’t pull away, either, so that’s a good sign.</p><p>“My stepmother, cruel woman she was, must have thought it would be amusing to enchant me in such a way, to where only a kiss from you could break it. See, somehow, she’d discovered my affections for you, and she knew about the bread. Sometimes she would taunt me about it, saying I was a useless, stupid creature, and why would any girl ever love me?”</p><p>‘Least of all her,’ my stepmother had said. I don’t say this to Katniss, but my stepmother had told me Katniss Everdeen was cold, violent, and mistrustful. She believed Katniss to be exactly the way she was. She’d probably expected her to kill me in some brutal way, being a great huntress as she was, but I knew better. I knew the real Katniss.</p><p>“Oh, Peeta,” Katniss murmurs.</p><p>The corner of my mouth twitches and I one-arm shrug. “For a while, I believed her. And when I became a mouse, I thought there was no way I’d ever earn a kiss from you. That’s what my stepmother was banking on, too. After all, who’s going to kiss a mouse?”</p><p>Katniss’s eyes flit to the side briefly, then they’re back on me.</p><p>“I had to work up the courage to go to you,” I admit, “because I knew what a great huntress you were. I wasn’t sure how you would react if I came to you in mouse form.” Even though I always believed in Katniss’s goodness, I was still afraid. “Not that I thought you were cruel, Katniss, but I’m not a brave man.”</p><p>Shame washes over me now. How could I doubt Katniss for a second? Neither knight nor prince am I. More mouse than man. I am nothing, really.</p><p>“Peeta, you <em>are</em> brave!” she argues. “You stood up to your stepmother. You destroyed her potions and spellbook. You saved your father and most likely so many others!”</p><p>I press my lips together and give her a look of thanks.</p><p>“I’m not sure what happened to her,” I say. “Without the love potion, my father had no reason to keep my stepmother around, especially when he suspected she’d murdered me and dumped my body somewhere. Far as I know, my father and some townspeople ran her out of town. I don’t know what they did with her or if she escaped. She could still be out there, lurking, just waiting to gain back her power and exact revenge.”</p><p>Katniss drops my hand and grips her bow on her lap instinctively. “If she comes back, I’ll protect you.”</p><p>I stifle a chuckle. It’s not that I don’t think Katniss is strong or that I feel emasculated by her statement, but I don’t want Katniss embroiled in matters involving my stepmother. If she did come back, I don’t know what I’d do, but I wouldn’t want Katniss anywhere near her. I know she’d try and protect me, and I’d do the same for her.</p><p>“Don’t worry,” is all I say. “I’m sure she’s not coming back. I heard the mob hung her from an old tree miles outside of town.” I don’t really know if that’s true or not, but I don’t want Katniss to fret over my safety.</p><p>“Oh. Good,” she says, loosening the hold on her bow.</p><p>I look her face over thoughtfully, my heart swelling within my chest. I didn’t think it possible to fall even more in love with Katniss than I already was, but I have.</p><p>“I’m afraid I may have underestimated you, Katniss, and for that, I am sorry,” I say sullenly.</p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>“Your selflessness. The purity of your heart. Something very beautiful came out of me being transformed...I discovered you are even more wonderful than I previously thought.”</p><p>She turns shyly away again, and I smile.</p><p>After a moment, she speaks up. “I remember the baker being devastated over the loss of his son, and the day I found out...I felt there was a cloud over me as if I, too, had lost someone very precious.”</p><p>I’m frozen by her words. Is it possible that Katniss has feelings for me, too?</p><p>“I never thanked you…,” she mutters, staring down at her hands.</p><p><em>Oh. I see now</em>.</p><p>I’m a little dejected that that was all it was, but I can’t expect too much. We barely knew one another…</p><p>“There’s no need,” I tell her. “As I said, we’re even now.”</p><p>She nods, and I watch her swallow. “You said you...that you loved me since we were five…,” she speaks without looking at me.</p><p>“Yes. I remember that day vividly. Your hair was in two braids instead of one, and you were wearing a red plaid dress. It was the day of the music assembly. The teacher asked ‘Who knows The Valley Song?’ and your hand shot straight up.” I grin just recalling it. “And when you sang...all the birds fell silent. That’s when I knew...I knew I was a goner.”</p><p>Refusing to be timid any longer, I gather up all my courage and go for broke. What do I have to lose?</p><p>“Katniss…” I take her hands again. She doesn’t resist, even lets the bow fall to the floor. “I feel I’ve been enchanted once more, but this time by you. By your kindness and your spirit and your beauty, inside and out. I fell for you that day in school, or at least, I thought I did. But it’s nothing compared to what I’m feeling right now…” I hear her suck in a breath, her chest rising and expanding. I continue, “Ever since the day I first saw you, you’ve been on my mind, and I only wished I could talk to you. I had to catch my breath at every sighting of you, and I could only dream of being where I am now. It wasn’t until I was transformed, and ironically, was unable to speak with you normally that I was really able to connect with you and get to know you. So, in a way, the witch casting that spell on me was a real piece of luck...because it brought me to you.”</p><p>“Peeta,” she mumbles, lowering her eyes.</p><p>“This isn’t a fairytale, and I don’t have riches to shower on you or a palace or anything, just a normal house and a small bakery that will one day be mine. But there is something I can offer...” She looks up at me curiously. “A nice dinner. I can take you somewhere or cook for you, myself–I’m a decent cook, actually. That is, if you’d be willing to go out with me...on a date.”</p><p>“I’d like nothing more...if you’ll allow me to‒”</p><p>“Yes,” Katniss squeaks out as though she’s the mouse now. My grin nearly splits my face, and I tease her a little, pretending to check for signs of transformation. She laughs and playfully shoves me away.</p><p>“So, you’ll allow it?” I need to verify because I just can’t believe this is really happening.</p><p>“I’ll allow it.”</p><p>Grinning widely, I squeeze her hands one last time. Reluctantly, I release them and go to get up. I don’t want to leave her, but I’m suddenly very aware that I’m naked under this sheet. Her brow wrinkles up cutely, and her eyes flash with surprise and something akin to sorrow when she realizes I’m leaving.</p><p>I smile softly and turn away, heading toward the door.</p><p>“Peeta!” she calls out to me. I turn back, thrilled at the chance for another look at her. “What will you do now?” she asks.</p><p>“Go home,” I tell her. “See my father. Shower. Eat something. And anxiously await our date...” I wink at her, and though she blushes and her eyes shoot to the floor, I notice the corners of her lips tilting upward.</p><p>“Goodbye, Katniss.” For now.</p><p>“Goodbye, Peeta.”</p><hr/><p>So much has transpired today, I think as I walk home.  The impossible seems to have happened. The spell has been broken, and I’ve asked Katniss on a date (and she’s accepted), something I thought even more impossible. I’m soaring, but my heart is also heavy. Because there’s something else I didn’t tell Katniss...</p><p>I’d like to say I’m only hoping to spend some time with her, but I have greater desires. She has broken the spell, and I’ve transformed back, but that’s only part of it. The other part of my stepmother’s curse, the part I left out is that Katniss has to fall in love with me within one month, or I will...perish.</p><p>Maybe it’s just the nature of curses, or maybe my stepmother wanted to give me a sporting chance–I doubt it‒but either way, she has made my life contingent upon earning Katniss’s love. Someone I feel unworthy of. And according to my stepmother, I’m unworthy of love altogether.</p><p>I’m running out of time. I have less than two weeks, and maybe that’s too little time for a person to fall in love. Of course, I fell for her nearly at first sight, though that’s probably uncommon. But even if it doesn’t work, I will treasure the moments we spent together while I was a mouse and hold onto them until my dying breath.</p><p>I can’t tell Katniss the truth because it has to be real. Not like the old witch knew anything about love nor would her brand of magic differentiate, but I won’t use manipulation on Katniss as she used on my father. I can’t say to her ‘love me or I’ll die.’ It’s too dramatic, and besides, I want Katniss to love me for me, and not because she feels she owes me something. For me, I need it to be real. Otherwise, I will leave this world willingly.</p><p>Maybe I don’t have much to offer her. Maybe I’m literally a goner without her, but can’t I have some semblance of a normal teenage life? Can’t I go out with my dream girl just once? Share a meal. Hold her hand. Get a goodnight kiss if I’m lucky…</p><p>Lost in my thoughts, I pass an alley, and from out of nowhere, a man appears before me. He has dark hair and is dressed in stylish, black, almost otherworldly attire. I spring back and go into a defensive stance.</p><p>“Who-who are you?” I demand, knowing his identity will do little for me if he’s out to cause me harm. I am weaponless and much too large to run and hide somewhere now; not to mention, my bum leg is back with a vengeance. But I’m stockier than he is, and I’m strong‒kneading dough and lugging 100-pound sacks of flour around all day will do that for a guy.</p><p>“Don’t be afraid,” he says. “I’m not here to harm you.”</p><p>I squint over at him.</p><p>“You’re in a predicament, are you not?”</p><p>“Yes…”</p><p>The man nods. “I’m sorry all this has happened to you, and I’m here to help.”</p><p>“Help?”</p><p>“Yes. I’m here to help you woo your fair maiden and break the curse.”</p><p>“Woo? Maiden?” I don’t know why I focus on the semantics. I should be focusing on how he knows about the curse.</p><p>He smirks at me. “How about ‘get the girl?’ Would you prefer that?”</p><p>“That’s better, I suppose,” I say, still eyeing him suspiciously and keeping my distance.</p><p>The man strokes his chin. “You seemed to be doing alright in there, but an eye for fashion and a little...magic…,” In a flourish, he waves his hand, and sparkling dust flies from it, “never hurt.”</p><p><em>Oh great</em>. So, I’ve encountered another magical entity (or a magician), and he’s been watching me… He seems friendly enough, but I’m naturally a bit skeptical given recent experiences.</p><p>“But I don’t understand. How do you know about my situation? And why would you help me? Who are you?”</p><p>The stylish man smiles. “Let’s just say, I’ll be your Prep Team for the date with Katniss, Peeta. You can call me Cinna.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope you all enjoyed it!  Yes, it's super sappy/cheesy, but remember, it's a fairy tale!  More on Katniss's POV next chapter.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This story is highly catered toward rosegardeninwinter.  It may not be for everyone, but I hope those who love fantasy, fairy tales, and/or cute animal stories will enjoy it.  You may notice some nods to canon (The Hunger Games) as well as some references/similarities to several fairy tales.  It's kind of a mishmash of THG, several fairy tales, and my own creation.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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